


Ace, June(ish) 1997 - October 1997

by readyfreddie



Series: Max and Ace (working title) [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: 90s sensibilities, F/M, M/M, Overuse of italics, not really spellchecked, overuse of the word fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 09:30:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10761471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readyfreddie/pseuds/readyfreddie
Summary: Ace falls in love with his best friend, and is awkwardly awkward about it. Smirking abounds.





	Ace, June(ish) 1997 - October 1997

Ace is 15 when he first notices. Since April he’s been going out with his best friend’s sister, and it’s - ok, it could be better. He and Max Benjamin have been best friends since they were both in 7th grade and met in 3rd period woodshop. They just hit it off. Everything about Max is perfect and awesome, and he thought going out with Blair would be just as perfect and awesome and it’s awesome but -  
Blair is sweet and shy which is - nice, but. (Max is a sarcastic little shit, and the way he’ll stare down a teacher, the _principal_ , completely unabashed -)  
Blair is graceful - a dancer and a gymnast - and loves sports. She’s a football fanatic, and he can argue with her about the Cougars and the Huskies all afternoon, which is really nice, if weird. (See, Max trips over his own feet at least three times a day, and won’t dance at school dances even when the hottest girls ask him. He doesn’t even under _stand_ football - he asked Ace what a fieldgoal was once. But Max adores baseball, knocks ‘em outta the park more often than anyone on the team and Ace loves the look on his face when he’s standing intent at first base, ready to lunge for the ball in an instant - )  
And Blair is smart - she’s in AP classes, and reads a lot, and doesn’t pretend to be dumb for whatever reason a lot of girls do. (But Max - Ace is pretty sure Max is a genius. When they all graduated 8th grade Max told him and Shay solemnly - a weird look on Max - his parents and the school board wanted to move him ahead a year, so he’d start high school as a sophomore and maybe school would be harder and he’d pay more attention. Shay had laughed, and he was right. Max was still bored as fuck.)  
*  
It all comes together in his head one day in June. His sister drops him off at Shay’s, after Shay and Max’s drivers ed class (Ace has to wait - he doesn’t even turn 16 till February) - Shay and Max are just chillin’ in the garage on the old orange flowery couch, Max who’s hotter than Blair’s ever been as he casually hits the bubbler, tawny hair glinting gold in the streams of sunlight filtering through the dusty window panes. Surprised, Ace blurts, “Hey - why’s the terrible trio smoking out withougt its third?” He places a hand dramatically over his heart. “I’m betrayed!”  
Max explodes into a strangled mix of hacking coughs and giggles - “The _what_ now?!” - knocking the ash from the mouthpiece into his palm and passing it to Shay. “That’s cashed,” he rasps.  
He turns and grins at Ace, eyes bright with tears from coughing and practically glowing as a result. “Hey-oh Janny.” (See, Max - Max never calls him Ace like Blair and Shay, or Janczewski like the other guys. It’s Janny or it’s Aaron.)  
Ace clears his throat. “Hey Benjy.” His heart is doing triple time and his head is swimming. Jesus fuck why is Max so - so -  
Max’s throat works as he gulps Dr Pepper, licks his lips (Jesus lord Max don’t do that), turns to Shay saying “Well pack the bowl and pass the man the bong, yeah?”  
("Terrible Trio" never does catch on.)  
*  
Ace spends the rest of the summer in the sort of torment only a teenager knows. On the one hand - Blair is sweet and pretty and he’s lucky to have a girl like that. She lets him go all the way to third with her at Crystal Lance’s slip’n’slide party, hiding together in the hot, dusty garage - his fingers smell sweet afterwards, and he rinses them discreetly in the sprinkler’s spray. Blair’s lips are swollen and red and -  
On the other hand, Max is _smirking_ at him and Ace is almost hard all over again. And then Max’s lids droop lazily down then up again and his smirk is - Ace freezes because jesus _fuck_ did Benjy just check out his boner? He squeaks (shit, no one heard that right?) and turns to plaster himself against Blair’s back, hooking his chin over her shoulder. She smiles back at him brightly. Max makes out with Heather Jones that night and Ace tells himself it was all in his head.  
The thing is, Shay has always been the chick magnet, the one all the girls giggled about behind their hands, but as soon as they hit high school Max was suddenly at no loss for female company. Like Blair, he was pretty. The Benjamin twins had “such sweet faces” he’d heard his mom say. But the older girls in Max’s classes, drawn in by that “sweet face,” were probably then hooked by the fact Max Benjamin can be downright _filthy_.  
Ace knows all about that.  
But yeah, Max hasn’t been a virgin for almost a year (like, a couple dozen times over not a virgin) and Ace has never seen him look twice at a guy before. He’s obviously just imagining things.  
*  
In September, after the first school dance, Ace and Blair go all the way in the back of her and Max’s Mazda 323, and - it’s nice, but - it’s weird? It’s wet and kind of uncomfortable and they can’t match rhythm and Ace comes too soon and Blair doesn’t come at all and she drives him home in awkward silence because Max pulled the radio out to tinker with.  
She breaks up with him that Thursday after football practice, over the phone, and his mom feels bad for him and drives him to Shay’s house, even though it’s a school night.  
Max and Shay are waiting for him in the garage with weed and puffy cheetos and gummy worms, Shay shredding a bud and Max laying back against the arm of the couch with a cigarette between his lips and a paperback in his hands. It has creepy, white faced mimes on the cover. Knowing Max it’s not even for school. Cake plays quietly from Shay’s stereo on the workbench. “Ok Janny?” Max lifts his eyes from the page as he moves his legs aside so Ace can sit.  
“He - Uh - “  
Max nudges his calf with a toe, looking concerned.  
“Relieved. I’m actually sort of relieved.” And Ace realizes as he says this it’s true. Then, “Sorry,” because Blair is Max’s sister.  
Max shrugs, takes a last drag of his cigarette and leans over to crush it out in the ashtray on the coffee table (i.e. row of old milk crates and a plywood board). “I’m surprised you lasted that long. Blair’s boring.”  
Shay giggles softly on his other side. “ Benjy, you think everything’s boring but us, and sometimes ‘Rique and Geo.”  
Max throws his book at Shay’s head. “I think you’re _all_ boring. Books and weed are my only friends you assholes.”  
“Yeah, that’s why you hang out with us 24/7?” Ace pokes his finger at the sole of Max’s foot and Max half giggles before scowling and tucking his feet under him.  
“What is this shit?” Shay grimaces at the book. “Freaky clown stories?”  
“It’s French and it’s a classic,” Max says seriously, then his face crinkles into a grin. “It’s pretentious as hell but it could be worse. Donoto gave it to me, she thought I might like it.”  
“I swear to god all the teachers have crushes on you,” Shay whines.  
“Oh fuck you.” Max reaches with grabby hands for the bong. “If you don’t want greens then gimme.”  
*  
It’s mid-October before Ace’s question is answered. Mr Greer’s history class is so mind numbing he can barely keep his eyes open and he scores a bathroom pass to escape for a few minutes, taking the long route to the most deserted bathrooms, the ones by the choir room no one uses because it got skipped in the last renovation and the urinals are old as shit.  
He doesn’t actually have to go, so Ace debates even opening the door, but hears a set of footsteps echoing through the hallway behind him and finally pushes through the door to avoid whoever it is.  
He regrets it as soon as the door swings shut behind him. There’s a whimpering sound coming from the last stall, probably some fucking freshman is crying in there, and he starts to back right out the door when the whimpering turns to a quiet gasp and a stifled moan and Ace ducks down to see - jesus fucking christ there are two pairs of shoes and holy shit that pair of Dr Martins has red laces and looks suspiciously like Max’s old beat up pair -  
“C’mon,” Max whispers, “and also, shut the fuck up. You’re noisier than a chick trying to fake it.”  
Ace’s face is on fire, and he ducks into the first stall quietly, locking the door and squatting with his feet on the seat so no one outside can tell where he’s hidden. He doesn’t know why, exactly. The sounds of Max jerking off a guy - because from all evidence that’s what’s happening right now - make him feel sick to his stomach and sort of breathless all at once. He should’ve fucking left, but it’s too late now because the other kid is coming and Ace squeezes his eyes shut and covers his ears because he - he just fucking can’t.  
They’re washing up - Max and whoever it is - and Ace’s muscles are starting to ache, squatting like this - then one of them leaves. He tries to breathe as quietly as possible, waiting for the second person - there, finally, footsteps and the door. He holds his breath a moment, listening, then awkwardly climbs off the toilet seat, feet and ankles all pins and needles. He opens the door and -  
Max, of course, is leaning against the door frame, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets.  
Ace’s face is on fire again, but the rest of him is cold and clammy. Shit. Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.  
Max raises an eyebrow. “You, Janczewski? Never took you for a voyeur.”  
“A what?” Ace croaks, which is, y’know. Smooth. He shakes his head. “I’m sorry Benjy. I just - I heard and - I panicked. People are stupid when they panic. I didn’t want whoever was in there to know I heard - “  
Max just closes his eye and leans his head back against the wall. “Whatever.”  
“Are you gay?” Ace blurts out suddenly. Christ, he had no idea that was about to come out of his mouth.  
“No,” Max says, curt, stone faced.  
Ace can’t breathe. The look on Max’s face - he's never looked at Ace like that before, so coldly. He’s fucking pissed and Ace is ashamed of himself, for - well, it wasn’t exactly spying, he didn’t want to - tried not to hear. But by some instinct, as soon as he realized it was _Max_ , he had to know for sure. Ace leans back against the stall wall and slides bonelessly to the floor. “I’m _sorry_ ” he says, his throat thick and tight. And - partly, he’s sorry for himself, he knows. Because Max was touching some faggy little freshman (he didn’t see the guy, but he just knows) and -  
Max sighs, and Ace can only see his legs, from beneath lowered lashes, as he walks over, then squats in front of him, forearms resting on his knees. “Janny,” he says, then, “Jans, look at me.”  
Ace does. “I’m not gonna tell anyone Max, I swear. I don’t care.”  
“Yeah?” Max cocks his head. “Still not gay Aaron.”  
Ace can feel his brow furrow.  
“I just like sex dude,” Max shrugs. “Pussy, cock, whatever.” He grins, and it’s a little dirty. “I like making people come, right? Like, knowing I made them beg for it. I like making people lose their shit.”  
This does not make Ace’s throat any less tight, or his stomach any less weird feeling. It just changes up the reason. He blushes again at the small strangled sound that escapes him.  
“Still not gonna tell?”  
God, Ace loves his best friend but he sometimes wants to punch that asshole smirk right off his stupid face. Instead, he gathers every bit of self control he can muster, clears his throat and finds his own smirk. “So was he any good?”  
Max’s face goes blank, and then he laughs so hard he falls out of his squat onto his ass. “Oh my god Janny.” He sits, indian style, and grins. “He was _terrible_ at first. Kissed like a goldfish and came in like, two seconds. He's gotten better.” Then his face goes serious. “I know you won’t tell about me - but - _promise_ you won’t tell about him. He doesn't deserve that shit. Pinky swear it.”  
Ace wouldn't ever anyway (if he knew who it fucking was) (and even though - _at first_ Max, _really?_ ) but Max takes pinky swears with deadly sincerity. Enrique tried to tell him they were girly, gay, and Max called him a faithless shit for brains cunt mouthed fucktard. But Max knows Ace and Shay will always honor the pinky swear and keep it sacred.  
“Pinky swear,” Ace promises solemnly. “Even though I have no idea who it actually was.”  
Max’s mouth falls open. “No idea?! You didn’t even peek out the crack in the door?”  
Ace loses control of his blush again. “I told you, I panicked! It was like some little kid instinct, like ‘if I can’t see them they can’t see me’!”  
“Ohh my god,” Max grins. “You are the worst ever and the best ever Janny. Any guesses?”  
“Uh, some fa - uh, little freshman?”  
“Ha! No.” Max waggles his eyebrows. “Opposite on both counts.”  
“Oh my _god_ Benjy. How the fuck?! From the minute you set foot in this school you’ve been banginng hot upperclassmen right and left which makes _no sense_ because the only person you went out with in junior high was Sara freaking Denny!” Ace pretends to strangle Max in exasperation.  
“What, I’m not hot enough? Also, _I’m_ an upperclassman too Jans.”  
“Whatever dude. You were always hot enough, you just didn’t used to _care_.”  
Max’s face is carefully blank for a second, then he quirks his eyebrow. “I may be a mostly indiscriminate nympho, but I wasn’t about to deflower some 8th grader.”  
Ace takes a moment to digest this, then, “Touche, pussycat,” he concedes.  
Max pulls him to his feet with a wrist clasp. “Better get back to class, or whomever gave you that piss pass is gonna think you drowned.”  
Which is Max in a nutshell, Ace thinks, “whomever” and “piss pass” in the same sentence.  
*  
Over the next couple weeks Max doesn’t treat him any differently, or seem any different. Ace watches. There’s nothing to show he even looks at guys. Well, then again it’s not like they have any classes together - they’re in different grades now. So Ace doesn’t really think about that afternoon in the bathroom. It makes him uneasy and, if he’s being completely honest, still a little bit queasy. He's pretty sure he manages not to treat Max any differently himself though, because he doesn’t fucking think about it, especially when he and Max and Shay, and sometimes ‘Rique and Geo, are hanging out. It’s just - ok, sometimes, at night, when he can’t sleep, or on the rare occasions he’s walking alone in the hallways at school (like when he passes the _fucking_ bathroom by the choir room on his way to p.e.), or running laps at football practice (“C’mon,” Max had whispered, while Ace’s heart raced).  
It’s a week and a half after the bathroom incident - Friday night and there’s a football game with a dance after - the weekend before Halloween. Ace and Shay play on the JV team, and Geo is varsity; JV loses but varsity wins so they’re pretty riled up on the way to the parking lot from the blockhouse locker room afterward. Max and ‘Rique are, oddly enough, waiting in Geo’s car for them with Taco Bell bags, ready to drive them to school for the dance. Ace can count on two fingers the number of dances Max has bothered with since the beginning of their high school career (hint: it’s two). They’re both stoned stupid, Max idly twirling a cinnamon twist between two fingers and sucking down Dr Pepper, and ‘Rique shoving half a bean burrito in his mouth.  
When they pull into the parking lot, Kennedy Chester - senior and varsity cheerleader - vaults into Max’s arms. “Maxy! You came!”  
“Max,” he says sternly, putting her down, using the tone of voice in which he tells his dog to sit. “It’s Max.”  
She sticks out her lip in a pout, Geo smirks, “Rique (so high) giggles, and Ace - well, Ace hates Kennedy Chester anyway. She’s his sister’s friend and she’s annoying, so of course he can be excused for glaring. Shay though, Shay has no excuse for that searching look he gives Ace. He doesn’t.  
Max disappears into a dark corner with Kenny and Ace and Shay are descended upon by a swarm of girls because they’re just that popular (ok. _Shay_ is that popular). Around eleven though Ace can tell Shay’s had about enough. Andrea and Brielle are practically hanging on him and whatever high he’d gotten earlier in Geo’s Maxima has mostly worn off. Geo’d scored a case of MGD and a couple bottles of SoCo, so the four of them, because no one’s seen Max since the first five minutes, saunter out of the gym under a suspicious chaperone’s eye.  
“You boys leave right now you don’t get back in,” he says, as if they haven’t left every dance early since the second one of freshman year.  
Halfway to the car Max catches up with them. “Goddamnit you fuckers, were you trying to ditch me?” He actually looks a little hurt. “‘Cause I can try to catch a ride with Blair but she’s still not talking to me” (she apparently has a problem with Max “siding with Ace” in their breakup, which - how had there been sides? there wasn’t even a fight! She’d just dumped Ace out of the blue!) “but ‘Rique’s got my weed.”  
Geo looks genuinely surprised. “What about Kenny? Thought you were gonna tap that?”  
Max snorts. “I did. Bathrooms by the choir room no one uses.”  
“Oh my god Benjy, again?!” Ace is… “Really?!”  
“And then she wouldn’t let go of my arm all night and I can’t _stand_ her _voice_! Hopefully ditching her will give her a clue.”  
Shay laughs. “What’d you tell her?”  
“That I was going to take a piss.”  
As usual, they head to Shay’s, whose mom works the overnight shift at Denny’s and doesn’t give a fuck what they do as long as they don’t get the cops called on themselves and keep anything illegal away from Shay’s little sister, who spends most weekends at a friend’s house anyway.  
After Geo and Shay have fallen asleep on the couch, and ‘Rique’s been passed out long enough for all four of them to draw dicks on his face with Shay’s little sister’s lip liner, Aaron shuts off the VCR and heads into the kitchen for a glass of water. Max is sitting at the table, gummy worm hanging half out his mouth, packing a bowl. Ace yanks on the end of the worm and Max bites it loose, so Ace sticks it in his mouth. He gets them both glasses of water from the filter pitcher in the fridge and plops down next to Max on the bench seat.  
Max glances sideways at him and grins. “Hey-oh Janny, want in on this?”  
Ace shrugs, evaluates the state of his sobriety, then nods, drawing lines in the condensation on his water glass, sleepily waiting his turn. According to the wall clock it’s 4:17am. He hears Max’s zippo click and flare, hears the bud catch and crackle. Suddenly, a hand grips the front of his t-shirt and he feels lips ghosting lightly against his. Ace opens his mouth in surprised reflex, and Max blows a stream of smoke in. Inhaling more out of reflex than anything, he barely avoids choking. “Fuck,” he coughs, shaking his head to clear it, still feeling the warmth of Max’s dry lips on his, just barely a touch, a tickle, and that fucker is smirking at him again. Ace has pretty much had enough of that. He pulls Max forward by the back of his head and presses their lips back together. And now it’s Max’s turn to gasp, so taking advantage of that, Ace runs his tongue over Max’s, then nips his lower lip murmuring “Fucking _tease_ man.” It sounds harsher than he’d meant.  
“Oh my god,” Max groans, pipe and lighter thudding onto the padded vinyl tablecloth, and Ace suddenly has a lapful of Maxfield Benjamin, straddling him, hand pushing back his ball cap and pulling at his hair, mouths and tongues clashing, with the occasional inelegant crash of teeth and gasp for breath. Ace can feel Max’s dick hard against his thigh as he leans into the kiss and murmurs “fuck,” presses the palm of his hand against it, his other arm around Max’s waist to hold him steady. Max in turn has one hand still fisted through Ace’s hair, the other cupping his jaw, practically excavating Ace’s mouth with his tongue.  
“Janny,” Max sighs finally. “Jans.” He pulls back, licking a trail of saliva from his bottom lip, both hand framing Ace’s face, searching his eyes. “Aaron, what are you doing?”  
“Can’t you fucking tell?’ It’s whispered but fiercely. Ace yanks Max closer, arms around his lower back till they’re nearly nose to nose. “I want you.”  
“You drunk bro?”  
Max looks so incredulous Ace laughs. “No!” Then, “well, a little bit. Not any more than you.” Neither Ace nor Max are big drinkers - Enrique and Geoff get trashed every time, and Shay often gets more or less wasted, but Ace and Max by far prefer to top off a mild beer buzz with bong hits. “I fucking wanted you all summer - probably longer. I mean, I dated your twin sister, so take that for whatever it was I guess.”  
Max says “ew” and Ace makes a face because he’s kind of right.  
“I just didn’t know…” Ace trails off, tries again. “Like, sometimes I _thought_ , but till last week I didn’t know you wouldn’t think I was a - a _freak_ for it.”  
“Jesus Aaron,” Max breathes out, pressing their foreheads together. “I - “ he starts, then sighs, leans fully against Ace, face buried in his neck and shoulder. “Not a fucking freak, fucker.” Ace can feel his breathing against his skin, making tiny hairs stand up from the goosebumps. He hitches Max closer, and their hearts pound together.  
“I know...I know you don’t like - like, you just sleep with people, or like - you just get _off_ , you don’t…” Ace can’t articulate what he wants to say - that he knows Max doesn’t do long term - doesn’t even do short term really, but if Ace can just have this one moment, to have Max not dismiss it as nothing, a fuckup, just let him _have_ this, he can make it last a lifetime. “I just _want_ you,” he says finally, and unfortunately, it comes out half whining.  
“You fucking with me?” Max rears back, staring right in his eyes. (Why the fuck are Max’s eyes so green? Ugh.)  
“No! I’ve been going crazy about you for _months_ you asshole! I just said! But like - “ he licks his lips, prays his voice won’t crack like it feels like it’s going to - “if we don’t let it be weird between us, shit. Benjy, I’d take more but I’ll take just this, right now. I want you, but I’d make this enough. Just don’t. Like, don’t make fun of it. Don’t hate me.” (His voice does crack, a little.)  
Max lowers his lips then, gentle, kissing Ace so gently he could cry, then whispers “Aaron. Janny. Jans. I could do this forever with you and it might not be enough. I’ve wanted you too.”  
“Fuck.” Ace might’ve whimpered that.  
*  
In the morning, he wakes curled next to Max on Shay’s twin bed. He can’t -  
Blair used to say, back when she was all lovey dovey, before she’d gotten distant and then they’d fucked and then she’d dumped him - she’d say she wished they could just sleep together, fall asleep together and wake up next to each other, and Ace had nodded, even if he didn’t really get it. It sounded sweaty and uncomfortable. He likes to spread out when he sleeps. But this - they’re still in jeans and t-shirts, but he’s got his nose pressed to Max’s collar bone and he is sweaty and hot - they both are and they could both use a shower, but Max’s fingers are curled over his hipbone while he grumbles something incoherent into Ace’s hair and Ace could probably stay here forever - or, at least until he _really_ has to pee, instead of just sort of.  
There’s a high-pitched giggle that comes from neither of them Max is suddenly sitting straight up. “Jesus fuck Enrique, it’s too fucking early for your fucking hyena cackle.”  
Ace rolls over onto his back, scrubs a hand over his face, slower to wake than Max and wondering fuzzily if he should be worried ‘Rique caught them cuddled up like puppies on top of Shay’s plaid comforter.  
“You guys were cuddling!” ‘Rique shrills, and Max was right, his head can’t take that right now. He thinks he’s still kind of high. They smoked a lot more before they finally tumbled together Shay’s unoccupied bed, hands and mouths everywhere.  
“Yeah, well, we’re both almost six foot and this is a twin bed. Of course we were cuddled up, since you fuckers were hogging the couches.”  
Of course Max has an answer. Even Mensa or whatever thinks he’s a genius. Ace tugs the pillow over his head and probably tells them both to fuck off.  
“Dude, get my backpack, we’ll wake’n’bake,” Max says, and Ace wants to say “Benjy shut up,” but he thinks it just comes out as a whine.  
As soon as ‘Rique leaves, Max lifts the pillow just enough to press a swift kiss to Ace’s mouth, whispers, “You’re always fucking adorable like this Janny, all pissed off at the world in the morning,” and tucking a blanket securely around him. Ace promptly falls back to sleep, until someone shakes him awake.  
“Ace, dude, breakfast?” It’s Shay this time, and Ace squints up at him through dry contact lenses. He shouldn’t have fallen asleep in them.  
“Time’zit?”  
“Like one dude. ‘Rique’s making waffles.”  
Gross.  
After hydrating his eyes and peeing, Ace shuffles into the kitchen where Enrique is indeed “making waffles,” which means manning the toaster as he pops out slice after slice of barely heated freezer waffle, pulling from an industrial size Costco-brand box of them.  
Ace guzzles down two mugs of water, then fills the mug with coffee, milk, and sugar, drops a couple waffles on a plate with a smear of grape jelly, and shoulders through the half open door from the kitchen to the attached garage.  
Max is lounging on the couch with a cigarette and a book as usual, coffee mug perched precariously in his lap. (What even is “Raise High The Roofbeams: Carpenters”? Is it a do-it-yourself book? It looks old as shit so it can’t be very useful.)  
Max hufffs out a laugh. “Jans, oh my god. You’re still so fucking stoned.” Ace realizes he’s probably said most of that out loud. He shrugs and shoves a waffle in his mouth.  
*  
Later, Max is driving them to get more weed from a guy he knows a couple towns over (it’s just the two of them - Geo is too hungover to move and ‘Rique and Shay were in the middle of a fierce Mario Kart battle) and Ace instigates the awkward “what are we now?” conversation.  
Max is quiet for a long time - an awkwardly long time. Finally, he says, “I’m not coming out in high school Jans. I’m not suicidal. And I’m pretty sure your parents would like, dis _own_ you.”  
Which is fair. Ace hadn’t actually been thinking about coming out of anywhere, he’s pretty sure he hasn’t got the balls for it. And Max is right, Ace’s parents are cool in some ways, like, letting him spend the entire weekends at Shay’s where they know he’s probably up to no good, but they would definitely flip the fuck out if they knew “up to no good” included getting off with Max.  
“That’s...not what I meant?”  
“Ok,” Max says, and he’s actually a little pink around the ears now, which is endearing, but weird. “It’s not just that. It’s - Ok. You’re my best friend and you’re fucking cute as shit and I love the hell out of you but...it can’t be just you.”  
Ace lets this sink in, trying not to -  
“Like -” Max barrels on, “I know myself better than that. Some cute chick will be like, ‘come on Max I know you want it,’ and I’ll be all, ‘hell yeah I do,’ and then like, in the afterglow, I’d be like, ‘oh shit, Aaron, oops.’ So...yeah. Bad idea, exclusivity. I’d just fuck that right up.” He looks at Ace out of the corner of his eye as he signals to pull off the freeway.  
And Ace, Ace gets it when Max explains it like that, he does. Max’s impulse control is shit - Max says this about himself ruefully every time he does something he regrets.  
“Aaron?” Max says finally, sounding anxious, and Ace realizes he hasn’t said a word.  
“Sorry, just thinking.”  
“Janny I -” And that’s adorable, even smooth, confident Max’s voice can crack sometimes. “I still want to be with you and everything. But if it’s going to make it weird - fuck. I don’t know what to do?”  
“Hey, no, Benjy.” Ace puts his hand over Max’s on the gear shift. “It’s ok. You’re right. We’ll be fine. Like, the same Janny and Benjy as always, only now with like, more tongue. It’ll be totally fine.”  
And Max laughs out loud, and then smiles at him so brightly Ace swears he _will_ be ok with that. It’ll be fine. He’ll make it fine.


End file.
